


Fanning the Flame

by redhearted



Series: Old Friends, New Love [2]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Football, La Liga, M/M, Soccer, Spain, Spanish National Team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-20
Updated: 2014-09-20
Packaged: 2018-02-18 02:21:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2331650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redhearted/pseuds/redhearted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're a couple. They make love. Iker has a surprise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fanning the Flame

He’s lying on the couch. Or – Iker’s lying on the couch, and he’s lying mostly on Iker.

 

For no reason, just because he can, David takes a bite at the smooth, pale expanse of skin that joins Iker’s neck and shoulder.

 

“Ow— _joder_ ,” Iker says, distractedly, opening his eyes from what must have been a previously peaceful reverie. “What?”

 

“Mmm.” The hum doesn’t give much away, David knows. But he isn’t in much of a mood to talk at the moment. No, he’s content to just look – take it all in – the pleasant, vaguely indie-film quality of Iker’s naked torso under him. The couch is a faded sort of cream, and the white early-morning sunlight gives him a sort of flightless jet lag.

 

Content after surveying the bigger picture for a while (the curve of Iker’s shoulder, the somehow surprising vulnerability of his swallow, the six a.m. shadow), he zooms in to the reddening bite mark he’d left.

 

Iker follows the gaze as best he can and touches slightly defensive fingers to himself.

 

“Is it obvious?”

 

David just licks his lips and grins.

 

*

 

“Okay, wait – wait,” Iker pants, surprisingly. They've moved to the bedroom.

 

“Already?” David stills. “You’ve really regressed, old man.”

 

“Ugh,” is all Iker says in reply. He’s not exactly loquacious normally, and even less so in the bedroom. Especially in the middle of sex. Which David supposes he can understand. But he must object when Iker starts to ease back.

 

“You can’t be done already,” David pleads. “Five more minutes?”

 

“First of all,” Iker says, “I am not a payphone, or something.” He glares, but the effect is rather negated by his evident arousal. “Secondly, I’m just trying to improve your experience here.”

 

David raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”

 

Iker beams. “You know how I said I’d never want to be filmed…”

 

“Y’know, Iker, that’s kind of the opposite of arousing…”

 

“…but, I have a close second for you, in case I never change my mind about the filming.”

 

David eyes the closet door, which Iker has approached. “Are you going back into the closet? That’s not arousing either, Iker.”

 

Iker rolls his eyes skywards. “ _Jesús_ , Villa. Okay. Here.” He opens the closet doors to reveal – mirrors.

 

Ah.

 

“Come back here then, you deviant.”

 

Iker returns to the bed, seeming quite proud of himself.

 

“Give me a condom.”

 

“Was I not fucking you?” Iker raises an eyebrow.

 

“Yeah, but first there’s something else I’ve always wanted to see.” David takes the condom Iker hands him. “Lie back. Lube.”

 

After he’s put the condom on himself and Iker is relaxed, he leans down to share a lingering kiss. “Been a while?”

 

“Been a while,” Iker responds, eyes falling shut. “Start gentle, won’t you?”

 

David hums in reply, shifting his weight back to press himself to Iker. The pressure of his cock makes Iker bite his lip. David shifts his gaze to the mirror: he can see himself, poised over Iker, his tan a clear contrast to Iker’s adorably stubborn paleness. His cock jumps with lust, but something in the image also causes a rush of warmth to his heart.

 

“I love you.”

 

“I know. Keep it moving, Villa.”

 

He laughs. “Take a look in the mirror. Throw on my Spain kit and your old-man vest, and we’re the picture of our public fuckfest in Austria.”

 

Iker begins to protest the description of his vest, but stops when he turns his head. “ _Fuck_ , David.”

 

“I know.” David presses closer, eases the first inch in, feels Iker shift and hears his soft moan. He likes that, so he waits a beat, then slides home. “Fuck.” The image in the mirror is unbearably erotic; their hips close, David unmistakably buried deep.

 

When Iker prompts him for more, for  _harder_ , David obliges. The sex in the mirror looks more beautiful than it had any right to be. They belong together, he thinks; he knows.

 

After, David slides down to take care of Iker.

 

"Should've done this on the pitch too," Iker says, combing his fingers through David's hair.

 

Mouth full, David flicks a glance up. Hums something. The vibration makes Iker groan.

 

"Yes...keep trying to talk."

 

David doesn't, but he does something with his tongue that is equally as devastating, and soon Iker is panting, boneless on the mattress. 

 

"I was saying," David says primly after swallowing, "That would be far too much for the world to handle."

 

"Yeah?"

 

"Yeah - I can see the headlines now.  _Extremely hot footballer gives ugly teammate blow job_. 'What'd he do that for?' the public would've said. 'Poor sucker.'"

 

Iker makes a sound of exasperation. "Now, remember you were  _giving_ the blow job...newspapers always get it backwards, don't they?"

 

Which is how they transition to reading _El País_  on Iker's tablet. They were, David realises, a real couple - reading the newspaper together. Even if said newspaper was actually approximately one pound of metal and glass. 

 

"Hey."

 

It takes a second for Iker to glance up. "Hm?"

 

" _Te quiero_." David smiles. "Just wanted to say it outside of sex."

 

"You know, you do. Quite often, actually."

 

"Do I?"

 

"I know you want to pretend you're a strong, silent type, but...it's not happening, Guaje."

 

"Oh really? Maybe I'll let you make your own breakfast this morning. That'll show you, Casillas."

 

Iker smiles at this last. "You know what? Do let me make breakfast for once."

 

When David opens his mouth to get another comeback in, Iker takes the opportunity to kiss him instead. He's not above a few dirty tricks.


End file.
